


All Hope Is Lost

by depthsofmysol



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Character Death, Implied Torture, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 04:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depthsofmysol/pseuds/depthsofmysol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was slowly slipping away - control of Gotham, hope for any sort of saviour to appear. A suicide mission seemed like the only way to find the answers, and John Blake, the only candidate crazy enough to volunteer. Would he be able to get the answers the city needed? Or would he, too, disappear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hope Is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my works, this is un-beta'd. Any mistakes are purely my own. If you see anything glaring, please feel free to let me know!

_We take Gotham from the corrupt, the rich, the oppressors of generations who kept you down with myths of opportunity, and we give it back to you, the people. Gotham is yours. None shall interfere, do as you please...The powerful will be ripped from their decadent nests and cast out into the cold world that we know and endure. Courts will be convened, spoils will be enjoyed. Blood will be shed...This great city... it will endure. Gotham will survive._

\---

Behemoths. Not possibly human. Absolutely insane. Those were the first words that came to mind the instant they'd laid eyes on Bane, watching as he had addressed the citizens from the steps of the prison. Gotham was in chaos; the police, trapped beneath the city, marshal law above, and a madman acting like some perverse form of Robin Hood, making the rich pay for all the crimes that had besieged the city. The city had its fair share of problems, and quite possibly, some of them could have been caused by the wealthiest portion of its population. But not all of it. Placing the blame, no matter how much, on a certain portion of the city seemed way too easy, a coward's way out to put it bluntly. And judging by their actions, Bane hadn't seemed like a coward.

Which meant something else had been at play, something else had been going on, something that required everyone's attentions to be diverted elsewhere. What it had been, they hadn't known. Their city's saviour was gone, hope for some sort of peaceful end to the chaos lost amongst it all, and the only solution they had come up with was to send someone in, have someone infiltrate the occupying forces, and find out just what it was they were hiding. It was a suicide mission, not something they expected anyone to return from, and with the limited amount of people with the experience to actually accept it, could only ask for volunteers. It was why John had decided to do it, why, out of all the ones who'd stepped out, he told them he was the one for the job. There was no one waiting for him at home, no family to mourn over his dead body, no one to truly miss him.

It was also why he was desperately trying to hold on, clinging on to that one single strand of hope that someone would find him before his body gave out. Getting into their organization had been relatively easy. The way they paraded around the city, like they actually owned it, made it easy to study their movements, and their behaviours. It hadn't even occurred to Blake that things were a little too easy, that he'd just walked into the group as if he'd been a part of them all along. No one had questioned him, no one had asked about the new kid in the group. 

Until someone recognized him. Then, life became a little more – difficult. Nothing could have explained away the questions, about why he had been seen with the commissioner, and the others from Wayne enterprises. He'd been warned it was mostly a one way mission, that the likelihood of him actually escaping with whatever information he could find was minimal, at best. But he'd held out hope, thinking he could actually get what they needed and get out without anyone noticing. This hadn't even occurred to him. 

"Welcome back, Mister Blake," the all too familiar voice of Bane permeated the edges of his consciousness, the bitter taste of copper, and his inability to breathe deeply, reminders of just what had happened upon his discovery. 

"Did you think we would not notice?" 

The condescending nature of his words, the way he seemed to enjoy Blake's discovery, made the pain that had seeped into every inch of his body worse. Had he been that naïve? Had he honestly thought everything would have gone as planned? No. But neither had he thought he'd have been discovered as quickly as he had. It was as if he'd had some sort of target painted onto his back, and once found – not even Batman would have been able to get out of the frenzy that had occurred. 

"Did you think you could just walk right in, and no one would have noticed?" 

The roughened hand that wrenched his head up, was one he was sadly all too familiar with. It was the same one that had punished him for his lack of answers, had left him with far more pain than being hoisted up, and held by his wrists, and the same one that continued to enjoy watching him slowly suffer. Blake knew it was only a matter of time before either his resolves, or his body, gave out. If pain was any sort of indicator, it was going to be his resolves. He was, and yet he wasn't, afraid of death, of the peace that it would give him, and the cessation of what Bane was putting him through. There was still that small, glimmer of hope that he could actually survive this, and come out in one, albeit battered, piece. 

"Talk, or not, it does not matter," and Blake could tell he meant every word, "our plan will go forward."

The unmistakeable sound of another bone crunching under his captor's fists, quickly followed by the white light of pain, and then the darkness. Blake hadn't heard the painful, _pitiful_ scream that came from him. The one he'd been desperately trying to keep from coming forth. It was a sign of weakness, a sign that they'd finally gotten to him. A sign that maybe he really wasn't going to get out of this alive, like he'd hoped to. His naïvety had finally set in, had finally shown him just how much of a fool he'd been. Now, all he could take comfort in was the darkness. The only thing that seemed to give him any sort of respite. Maybe, one day, he hoped, it would claim him one final time, and give him an eternal peace that his own body was craving. Maybe...

\---

_It's a one way misson... If you can't, then there's no hope... We're counting on you... Good luck..._

_Getting into the sewer systems had been easy. Blake remembered the exact location from their first exploration, and this time, it had been relatively easy to just slip down the ladder, and into the tunnels. Surely, they wouldn't have just allowed anyone to slip underground unnoticed. He pushed it aside, and started his careful exploration of the tunnels. The kids from the home said the older ones came to the tunnels for work. It had seemed strange, but the cop in him refused to let it go. If Bane was anywhere, it was there, attracting the kids for whatever his latest scheme was. He had to be. Otherwise, he would be stuck back at square one._

_One foot in front of the other, he reminded himself. The only sound was his own footsteps, echoing off the concrete walls. There was also the sound of running water, but Blake refused to concentrate on it. His gun was already drawn, along with a flashlight, and pointed forwards, hating the fact that his own six was left open to attack. They couldn't have spared another person. They probably couldn't have even spared him. But they needed to know what was going on. They needed to figure out just how screwed the city was. Not even his own optimism was enough to think the city would end up in tact after Bane, and his thugs were done with it._

_Another few steps, and for a moment, Blake thought he'd heard more than just his own. Had he been followed? Had someone decided to come after him? No. Surely, not. No one would have been that –_

"Do not think we shall let you go so easily," again the voice pulled him from the darkness, forcing him back into the world of the light, and of the excruciating pain, "you may want death. But you shall not get it."

He knew. Somehow, he knew they weren't just going to let him go. But why were they keeping him alive? What purpose did they have for him? Blake knew with the police force trapped underneath the city, that they were free to go, and do, whatever it is they did. But why keep him around? It wasn't as if he could be some sort of bargaining chip. His life was of no value, he meant nothing to Gotham. If he were related to the Wayne family, he could see himself being taken hostage. But an orphan? It made no sense to keep him around. Not unless – 

Finding the strength to raise his head, he found himself eye to eye with Bane. Since that day in front of the prison, Blake hadn't made any sort of attempt to see just who his captor really was. Today, there was nothing left for him to lose, no real reason for him not to see just who it was who had taken him hostage. Curiosity had finally won over his own survival. And what he saw actually surprised him. Yes, there was the hate, the anger, the desire to fulfill their so called destiny. But there was something else. Compassion? Could such a creature actually have such an emotion? He refused to believe it. If that thing had compassion, he wouldn't have been strung up from his wrists, wouldn't have quite as many problems breathing as he did. 

No, Bane was nothing more than some mercenary, someone who seemed to get off on inflicting pain. Anything else, and he would blame the pain, and injuries that had been inflicted upon him. Blake had no idea how many hours, or days, he'd been down there, and wasn't about to start sympathising with them. He would die first before ever joining their ranks. He was also quite certain his struggle, that between keeping his eyes locked on his captor and allowing his gaze to fall, was clearly written on his face, as Bane's demeanour changed. Gone was the look of anger, and again, he saw something similar to – understanding? Compassion? Impossible.

Lowering his head, he prepared himself for what he knew would be coming next. Each and every time they'd had any sort of interaction, it always ended with pain. Lots and lots of pain, the sickening crunch of bones breaking, and the darkness that would always envelope him, like some sort of warm blanket. This time, it was different. Bane had left him be. No words exchanged, no pain inflicted. He had just walked away. Maybe hell had truly frozen over, and death wouldn't be far behind.

\---

_Gotham's safe... Your job is over... You can relax now..._

Was it all over? Blake no longer had the strength to open his eyes, or even test the restraints. Everything was going into taking yet another painful breath. How many days had it been? Or had it turned into weeks? The water, the one thing that had always been prevalent in his head, was still there. But the voice. It sounded so – familiar. Had the commissioner finally found him? Or had his own sanity finally betrayed him, forcing him to hear voices that weren't even there.

_John, it's okay... You're okay... Just rest..._

The same voice, telling him the same thing. Maybe they were right. Maybe, after all of this time, they were right. No one, not even Bane, had visited in many hours, if not days. Maybe they'd finally left him be, and were just waiting for nature to take it's course. Or maybe they realized they'd damaged him beyond repair. Blake didn't know. It was harder and harder to breathe. His body kept screaming at him to just give up, to sleep, to allow the darkness to embrace him one last time. He'd tried to hold onto hope, onto that one sliver of hope that he might be found. But it was all slipping away – his life, hope, Gotham. It would be so easy to finally give up. That small voice in his head, the one that had reminded him to just hold on, had gone silent a long time ago. There was no real reason to hang on. Not when death was so tempting. 

And with one, quiet, final breath, he allowed the darkness to finally embrace him. He wouldn't see the way Bane had taken him down, had shown him more kindness than he had during life. He wouldn't hear the man order his body to be returned to the police force, sans any sort of ransom note. And he wouldn't see that, in the end, his beloved Gotham had survived, and beaten back the invaders. Blake had embraced death, just like death had embraced him. Everything was gone – the pain, the hope, the fears. In the end, it was just as it was supposed to be. In the end, all hope truly wasn't lost.


End file.
